A Hundred Seconds of Love
by ToastyToaster22
Summary: From birth to death we love, and are loved in many ways. The Takaishida family was no exception. A hundred moments of fluff in no particular order.
1. 1-5

**I needed a break from all the angst I was writing, and this happened. I now have four ongoing stories in my head. Don't fear, Skittles will be finished, and the new Takeru/ Hikari in preschool is still in the works. Some other things might just pop up while you guys wait.**

 **For your reference, size 24 shoes in Japan are the same as children's size three in the US.**

* * *

One

Hiroaki Ishida closed the front door with care. He crept into the dark apartment, placing his briefcase on the kitchen table. The man walked to the back bedroom and peeked around the corner. The nightlight allowed him to see the mess of blond hair sticking up from the lump on the toddler bed. Hiroaki couldn't help but smile as he tiptoed in and sat gently on his child's mattress. The father reached out and straightened the blankets slightly, listening to the faint sound of his little boy's breathing.

Hiroaki leaned over and pressed a soft his to his two-year-old's forehead. The child squirmed a little, his nose scrunching up. Two blue eyes fluttered open and looked around sleepily. Landing on his father's face, Yamato smiled contentedly.

"Hi Daddy."

* * *

Two

Hikari Takaishi stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She had been so exhausted last night that she had neglected a shower in favor of an extra hour of sleep. Her hair was beyond rumpled and probably wasn't the cleanest. There were obvious sleep lines on the side of her face from her pillowcase, and they even rippled all the way down her left arm. The twenty-six-year-old sighed and worked up a foam brushing her teeth.

Takeru stumbled into the bathroom still half asleep and with a case of bed-head that rivaled Taichi's. To him, she looked like an awfully good resting place. Leaning much of his weight on his wife, he smushed his face into her shoulder and gave the crook of her neck a kiss. Takeru's arms snaked around her and he hugged her tightly.

"Good morning, beautiful."

Hikari snorted out a laugh and sprayed the mirror with toothpaste.

"Hey, handsome."

* * *

Three

"Again!" Takeru chirped, clapping his tiny hands together.

Yamato indulged him, putting the brand new harmonica to his lips and giving a long blow.

Takeru squealed at the noise, his face red with excitement.

"Again!"

In the other room, Natsuko made the decision to invest in a good pair of earplugs.

"Again!"

* * *

Four

Natsuko Takaishi hurried into the apartment, nearly knocking herself flat on the size twenty-four shoes that were strewn in the doorway. She saved herself by clutching the coatrack somehow. Irritation bubbled inside her.

 _How many times have I told Takeru to line his shoes up nicely?!_ She hissed in her head.

Placing her son's (and her own) shoes on the shoerack to the right, she huffed in a deep breath and walked heavy footed into the kitchen.

To her surprise, her son was perched at the kitchen table, filling a tall glass with some juice. The table was sloppily set for two. At each place setting was a small bowl of noodles, an orange and a cookie. The little boy turned as she entered the room, pride glowing on his face.

"Mama! I made dinner!"

A warm smile graced the exhausted woman's face.

"I see that, sweetheart."

* * *

Five

Takeru was much smaller than Yamato had been, Hiroaki thought as he held his two week old baby. Almost a full pound lighter, too. But the doctor had claimed that the little boy was perfectly healthy, so they took him home. Even with those assurances, now and then Hiroaki couldn't help but worry. But as Hiroaki watched his second child, those worries were beginning to fade.

Takeru slept better, ate more, and was generally more active than his big brother had been at the same age. Hiroaki thanked his lucky stars over and over again that Takeru was not as picky as Yamato with sleeping conditions. Yamato needed to be constantly rocked and bounced to sleep until he was close to a year old, which was frustrating and tiring for both parents.

The man reclined further on the couch and turned on the television. Takeru was happily drooling on his chest, oblivious to the position change. Hiroaki laughed to himself that two babies that looked so much alike could be so different in temperament. He patted his younger son's tiny back gently and closed his eyes himself.

"Thanks, kiddo."


	2. 6-10

**So dnofsunshine's newest chapter of Hell Over Me was so creepy I needed to write up something cute to balance it out. I have made an exception for number nine, and expanded my Takaishida family to include Taichi. Friendships are love too.**

* * *

Six

Yamato looked back and forth between his mama and daddy, who sat on either side of him on the couch. His little face screwed up in confusion and he started peering around the room searchingly. His parents watched him quietly, bemused, until Yamato went to climb down to the floor.

"What are you doing, son?" Hiroaki asked, holding back a chuckle.

Yamato frowned up at him.

"Looking for the baby."

Natsuko laughed understandingly.

"Oh, honey. The baby isn't here yet," She looked to her husband with a smile. "The baby is in my belly right now. In the spring, he or she will be ready to see you, but right now the baby is too little."

The three-year-old's eyes widened as his mother spoke, and then zeroed in on her stomach. He was silent for a moment. His face became serious and he edged closer to where his father sat.

"Daddy," He whispered, and Hiroaki leaned down to hear his son's soft words. "Why did Mama eat the baby?"

Hiroaki threw his head back and burst out laughing.

* * *

Seven

All other sounds faded to silence. Even Daisuke's overwhelmed yelling was barely audible to Takeru as he pulled Patamon into his arms for the first time in years. Joyful tears prickled at his eyes and he shut them tightly, pressing his face into his partner's soft fur.

"That tickles, Takeru!" Patamon squirmed in his hands, giggling happily.

"Sorry," Takeru wasn't sorry, but he held the little digimon still and took a moment to just breathe.

He let out a deep, contented sigh.

"I missed you."

* * *

Eight

Hiroaki was attempting to recover from the shock that this massive striped wolf in front of him was actually the mild mannered Gabumon he met earlier that same day, when a second shock rocked his world.

"Daddy!"

His little Takeru was here? In this monster filled chaos? He had taken comfort in the fact that him and Natsuko were outside of the fog encompassed Odaiba, and now he had crossed the bay just to make sure that Yamato and himself were okay?

He pushed aside the fear at having his smaller son here in this madness, and felt nothing but proud at Takeru's actions. Hiroaki wanted to scoop the little boy into his arms and tell him how amazing he was, but that felt demeaning to a boy who was obviously doing his best to grow up. Instead he placed a tender hand on Takeru's hat, and sent him the proudest, love filled smile he could muster.

Takeru grinned back at him.

* * *

Nine

Everyone else was asleep. Well, "everyone" being Hikari, Sora and Koushiro. Everyone _else_ was gone. Their leader had his back facing the group, staring unseeingly at the stuttering flames of their campfire. Even in the dark, Takeru could see the ugly bruises that were marring Taichi's skin. The boy tiptoed closer, not wanting to wake his partner or the others.

"Taichi?" He whispered when he was in the light of the fire.

Said boy started, whipping his head around at the sudden voice. His expression changed to one of exhaustion and worry when he saw the youngest of their team still awake.

"Hey Takeru, can't sleep?" He patted the ground next to him in an invitation to sit.

Takeru stood firm. He held out his hands and offered the older boy a small tub of cream and a few band-aids, their wrappers wrinkled with age.

"I'm sorry onii-chan hurt you."

* * *

Ten

Takeru had to throw his elbows around every minute or two to avoid being crushed, but he was having the time of his life. Aniki's concert was a total success, and their worries about the name change lowering their ticket sales were unfounded. Sort of. Takeru _may_ have been selling tickets to his classmates at a slightly discounted rate, but aniki didn't need to know that.

He jumped to the beat as his personal favorite started up. Pushing forward as much as he could, he managed to reach the mosh pit barrier. A perfect view of the stage greeted him. He knew it was nearly impossible to see anyone in the crowd from the stage with all those lights in your eyes, but he swore his brother looked right at him. Euphoria swirled through him to see aniki smiling like that. In that moment, everything was perfect.

* * *

 **If anyone was not satisfied with number 9 (me) don't fear! I have a much longer version of that scene planned for Stutter. It only counts as an AU because there's no way Taichi would let Hikari sleep that far from him after the events of that day.**


	3. 11-15

**Hi guys! I hope you are enjoying these tidbits! I am having fun writing them. For anyone who is being patient and waiting for chapter 8 of Skittles, it will hopefully be posted this weekend. Its a pretty lighthearted one.**

 **Number 13 will be the closest I get to acknowledging Tri in my stories. I won't be writing anything related to Tri until its all over and I can see that things end happily. They better.**

* * *

Eleven

Natsuko kept telling herself that there was no reason to worry. Hiroaki wasn't like other fathers she had heard her coworkers talking about… Yet she had been hesitant to leave the man home with the boys for a three-day weekend. They were good boys of course… but they could be a handful. Readjusting the overnight bag under her arm, she fished for the apartment keys. There was a lot of noise coming from behind the door, and Natsuko could only hope it wasn't crying.

As she opened the door and left her shoes in the entryway, it became apparent that the sounds coming from the living room were laughter. Not light, giggling laughter like she was used to hearing from her eldest, but raucous, deep belly laughs. She was so curious that she failed to even give the pile of dirty dishes in the sink a second glance.

Hiroaki was sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, which wouldn't be so odd if it weren't for the appearance of a second, smaller blond head growing out of his shoulder. Yamato was cackling in a way Natsuko rarely heard, reaching halfheartedly towards his brother. Three-year-old Takeru was pinned under his father's knees, on his stomach and out of breath from laughing so hard. Through his laughter, she somehow made out a few words.

"Help…me …onii-chan! D-Daddy…is… is squishing…meeeeee!"

Natsuko pretended to be serious, forcing a frown onto her face and clearing her throat.

"Hiroaki, where are the children?"

Hiroaki snapped his head up at her and gave a big, fake sigh of contentment.

"Oh darling, I have no idea where the boys are, but you _have_ to try out this chair!"

* * *

Twelve

Takeru laid on his stomach on his brother's bed, kicking his feet around in the air. He rested his head on his arms and let his eyes half close, feeling so very relaxed.

Yamato sat on the floor at the end of the bed, tuning his guitar and humming quietly to himself. He knew it was technically past his little brother's bedtime, or at least the one his mom made Takeru adhere to. But Takeru was ten and a half, and Yamato thought of all the nights in the Digital World where they had stayed up nearly the whole night. Dad wasn't home yet. One more late night wouldn't hurt.

* * *

Thirteen

Hiroaki ishida had long accepted the idea that his older son had in image to maintain and that the clothes he wore were somewhat more stylish than a typical seventeen-year-old would wear. He had also long since accepted that his younger son had absolutely no sense of style whatsoever. Strange hats, the same shirt in three different colors, really anything was possible.

So, when he came home one day and found Takeru helping Yamato out in the kitchen wearing skinny jeans, a purple v-neck shirt, and an interestingly feminine scarf... Well, that gave him pause. Hiroaki wondered briefly if the change came with a different attitude as well. However, his fourteen-year-old took that moment to whip around with a blinding smile.

"Dad! You're home early! Nii-san is making tonkotsu ramen."

Ah. No change at all then.

* * *

Fourteen

Takeru Takaishi, currently twenty-four, had faced many frightening moments in his life. One would think that after all those times of stress, something like this would be a piece of cake. Nothing was about to try to kill him, after all.

He hoped.

"Taichi?" The young man stood stock still, trembling and sweating much more than he would care to admit.

"Yeah?" His older friend took in Takeru's condition and instantly became serious.

"Um," The blond took a deep breath. "I already talked to your parents about it, but I wanted to ask you too… I… I'm going to ask Hikari to marry me. Can I have your blessing?"

* * *

Fifteen

Proud mommy, Natsuko Ishida, sat beside her two-and-a-half-year-old son on the couch, watching a movie and holding a barf bowl. Her very brave little boy did not shed a single tear at the doctor's office this afternoon, despite his terror of needles. His lip had trembled something fierce, but Takeru had sat patiently in Natsuko's lap as the pediatrician took his temperature, and poked and prodded him, ultimately declaring he had the flu.

Like they didn't already know that.

 _Oh well, at least we knew it isn't something worse_ , she thought.

"See honey? The doctor wasn't so bad, right?" The mother pulled her son closer and smiled down at him.

Takeru turned slowly away from the TV, half melted orange popsicle in hand, and fixed his mother with a glare so reminiscent of his big brother that Natsuko could not help but laugh.

* * *

 **If anyone cares, tonkotsu ramen is pork ramen.**


	4. 16-20

**Hello everyone! Sorry there has been a lull in my writing. I am in the middle of a rather unexpected move and have been spending most of my free time either packing, cleaning or sleeping. The good news is I still have been writing snippets of all my works whenever I can. I just need to spend a few days stringing them all together. Hopefully I will have chapter 8 of Skittles up in the next two weeks, and I want to post another Stutter chapter soon. This was all I could pound out while stuffing pasta in my face on my empty living room floor. We moved our kitchen table and chairs before dinner today. Oh well.**

 **These are getting longer and longer as I go. is that bothering anyone? I can't tell if its bothering me or not.**

* * *

Sixteen

Takeru awoke with a jolt, his heart pounding in his small chest. Blue eyes searched the dark room quickly. In finding no bad guys or monsters in the immediate vicinity, he scrambled out of the twisted sheets and threw himself up the ladder to his brother's bunk.

"Mmm…" Yamato acknowledged his little brother's presence with a sleepy groan. "Scary dream?"

The three-year-old clambered under the blankets and pulled them over his head, curling into a ball.

"No," He lied breathlessly. "I'm a big boy, and big boys don't have scary dreams."

Yamato chuckled at Takeru's stubbornness. He rolled over and slowly lifted the edge of the comforter up, peeking down at the child beneath them. Takeru peered back up at him, eyes teary and cheeks puffed with defiance.

"I thought you were lonely, so I'm staying here."

Yamato tried not to laugh at the serious look on the little boy's face and lowered the blankets again.

"Whatever you say, Teeks."

* * *

Seventeen

"Why do we gotta go grocery shopping?"

Five-year-old Yamato Ishida dragged his feet all the way down the spice aisle as his father pushed the cart and peered at the shopping list.

"Because we need food and Mommy has a big headache," Hiroaki replied, stopping the cart and picking out something Yamato didn't recognize.

The little boy huffed, glaring balefully at his father and almost stomping his foot.

"But this is boring…"

His father flashed him an admonishing look at his behavior before softening and smiling instead.

"It's not boring, see? Look at how much fun Takeru is having!"

The eighteen-month-old sat in the cart's baby seat, shaking a box of soap over and over, cackling to himself.

Yamato was not impressed. His little brother thought everything was funny.

"Think of it as an 'Ishida Men's Day Out.'"

The boy considered it. That did sound much cooler than 'Shopping Day.'" He chewed his lip.

"Can I ride in the cart?" He bartered.

Hiroaki laughed, startling the elderly woman passing by.

"Yeah, why not?"

* * *

Eighteen

An exhausted Hiroaki Ishida fished for the apartment keys in his jacket pocket. It had been a long, grueling day at work and he wanted nothing more than to kiss his boys good night and drop into bed next to his wife. He scratched at his five o'clock shadow and opened the door, expecting blessed silence. It was, after all, after eleven pm.

Silence was not what his ears experienced as he hung up his coat and took off his shoes by the door. He shuffled to the living room to see what was the matter.

Natsuko paced back and forth in her pajamas, bouncing their eight-month-old and somehow managing to look even more tired than he felt. Takeru was bawling incessantly, huge tears rolling down his round cheeks.

"Daddy, make him stop," A wobbly voice drifted up from the couch. Yamato was curled up in the corner, sleepy doe eyes looking pleadingly at him. Small hands were clapped firmly over his ears.

"He's been like this since seven-thirty," His wife sounded like she was at the end of her rope. "I've tried everything. I have no idea what he wants!" She shouted over their child's wailing.

Hiroaki held out his arms.

"I'll take him. You see if you can get Yamato to bed," He offered.

At the sound of his father's voice, Takeru's cries dwindled to sniffles, and the baby eagerly reached for him. Hiroaki stared as his younger son, who tended to prefer his mother, snuggled sleepily and peacefully against his chest. Even as he watched, his son's eyelids fluttered shut.

"I guess he just wanted Daddy," He said, baffled.

Natsuko's mouth puckered as she gazed at her now sleeping baby.

"This is both adorable and somehow insulting."

* * *

Nineteen

Takeru's mouth fell open and his heart swelled in his chest. He gaped at his wife and managed to stammer out,

"Are, are you sure?"

Hikari laughed gently at him, and took his lightly trembling hand in her smaller, warm one.

"Absolutely," She smiled.

"Really?" Takeru whispered.

"Really really."

Takeru threw himself forward and wrapped Hikari in a smothering hug. He tried to hold back the overwhelming urge to cry.

"We're going to have a baby!"

* * *

Twenty

Natsuko Ishida paused in her tidying of the apartment to observe her boys as they watched a film from the couch. She switched the laundry basket to her right hip and smiled fondly at her children. It was amazing how different they were becoming, especially now that they were getting older.

Takeru never stopped moving. He bounced and rocked on his side of the couch, kicking his legs and fidgeting as he pleased. Raucous laughter burst from him at the funny lines, and his eyes widened comically at intense scenes. His entire body language changed any time the scene changed. Her younger baby wore his heart on his sleeve.

At nearly seven years old Yamato was the opposite. He was turning into a rather thoughtful little boy. Yamato took his big brother duties quite seriously and was taking responsibilities around the house as well. He sat quietly, leaning straight back against the pillows with his hands in his lap. Natsuko worried about him occasionally, the only thing he seemed enthusiastic about was helping take care of Takeru. As his mother, she wondered what he was interested in. He wasn't into sports like many little boys his age, but he wasn't immersed in academics either.

The mother turned to put the laundry away when the film began a musical number. Takeru started singing along almost immediately, most of the words incoherent or wrong, but sung happily nonetheless. As she passed by Yamato, a soft sound made her stop again.

Yamato was singing along too.

He was quiet, but his voice was shockingly good. He matched the pitch of the singers in the film with apparent ease. Natsuko crept along the edge of the couch and was delighted to see that Yamato's eyes, though glued to the screen, had lit up and there was a smile tugging at his mouth as he sang.

Ah. Music lessons were in order.

* * *

 **Grocery shopping with my dad was actually an enjoyable childhood experience for me. Sunday mornings seemed to be Father/Daughter shopping hour at my local store, and there were always a bunch of other sleepy looking kids there with their dads. At my house whoever went shopping got to pick out the cereal for the week, and I always got a free slice of cheese at the deli.**


	5. 21-25

**Heyyyyy! So in celebration of actually posting a chapter of Skittles, I wrote up some cute scenes! These are much closer to the length I really planned. Just a few seconds of life. These are some of my favorites that I have written so far. They all felt very genuine to me. Hope you like them!**

* * *

Twenty-one

Hiroaki Ishida considered himself a fairly serious man.

That changed when he became a daddy.

"Here comes the airplane! Whoosh! Vroom!" He swooped the spoon around in the air before aiming it for his son's tiny mouth. "Open wide!"

Ten month old Yamato giggled and opened his mouth, showing off his two new teeth. Hiroaki quickly popped the baby spoon in his mouth before he could close it.

"Oh, good job, baby! Here comes anoth- Hey you okay, buddy?" The young father leaned a little closer as his son froze and made a strange face.

And proceeded to sneeze banana mush all over him.

* * *

Twenty-two

"See, Take-chan? This is a sweet pea. Go ahead and try it."

The three-year-old hunched over to peer curiously at the small green dot his grandmother held out to him. All around him, her garden was overflowing with sweet-smelling flowers, and fresh fruits and vegetables ready for the picking. He cautiously picked the pea from her palm and sniffed it. Deeming it worthy, he tossed it in his mouth, smiling at the flavor.

"Obaa-chan? Can I try this one?" Yamato called from the next row, holding up a little red ball.

"Of course, Yama-chan, but I wouldn-" The boy interrupted her with a hearty bite.

There was a moment of silence. Takeru looked on in alarm as his brother suddenly spat the offending food into his hand, giving their grandmother a look of betrayal. Disgust was written all over his face as the old woman laughed.

"Darling, that's a radish."

* * *

Twenty-three

"Higher!" The little boy screeched in delight as his brother pushed him on the swings in the park. "Higher, onii-chan!"

Yamato rolled his eyes and gave a strong shove.

"Higher!"

Another push.

"Higher!"

Here it comes.

"Higher!"

Yamato sighed. Any moment now…

"Higher!"

Aaaaaaaand…

Takeru's shriek made his ears ring.

" _Too high! Too high_!"

* * *

Twenty-four

In the year since Hiroaki became a father, he had come home to many different scenarios. Yamato screaming. Yamato crying. Yamato miraculously sleeping and Natsuko crying with joy. But it was rare to come home so late at night and find both mother and child bouncing around the apartment and laughing.

"Uh, is everything okay, Nat?" he asked as he hung up his coat.

His wife danced over with their son in her arms. She beamed at the little boy, and then at her husband.

"Look, look, look! Go ahead baby, you can do it,"

The fluffy haired infant gazed excitedly between his parents before opening his mouth.

"Mama."

Natsuko's smile could have lit up the whole city.

* * *

Twenty-five

"Ow!" Natsuko hissed, pulling her finger back and sucking on it. Across the table, Takeru's head jolted up from his coloring, staring wide-eyed at his mother.

"Mama, what happened?"

"I'm okay, baby. Just a papercut," She attempted to quell both the stinging and the worries of her five-year-old.

Takeru leapt out of his chair and rushed in and out of the bathroom before she could even push her own chair back. The little blond clambered heavily into her lap, huffing,

"I got it! I'll fix it!"

Natsuko got shit from her co-workers for wearing a Totoro band-aid for a week, but she refused to take it off.

* * *

 **I hope I haven't offended anyone who enjoys radishes. I just find them terribly peppery, like the spice, not the vegetable. Yet somehow I like pickled radishes. Because you know, that makes so much sense.**


	6. 26-30

Twenty-six

As soon as Hiroaki stepped in the door he was assaulted by a small, (but getting taller every day) blond boy. He was nearly pushed right back out the door by the ferocity of his son's hug.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Come see! It's so funny!"

The father ruffled Yamato's hair while he tugged off his shoes.

"Hang on just a second; let me get in the house first."

Yamato bounced impatiently, and the moment Hiroaki's shoes hit the floor, he grabbed his father's shirt sleeve and pulled him to the living room. The excited child slid to his knees on the floor right beside his baby brother. Takeru was nearly seven months, and though not yet crawling, he laid on his belly and had pushed up on his hands.

"Ready? Ready, watch this!" Yamato snatched a bottle of bubbles off the table and began attempting to blow a bubble. Attempt being the key word. Hiroaki knew the child had been trying to blow bubbles for months now, and had not gotten the hang of it yet. Indeed, the boy's whole face scrunched in determination, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, yet no bubbles came from the wand. Hiroaki expected this.

What he did not expect was the deep, baby belly laughs that came from his second born. Takeru was laughing so hard his hands kept slipping out from under him. His little head bonked harmlessly on the floor and he pushed himself back up again. Only for him to laugh even harder and bump his face to the wood once more.

Natsuko padded into the room, soapy hands perched on her hips.

"Yamato, I know he likes it, but for heaven's sake, he's going to get a bruise."

* * *

Twenty-seven

As much as Natsuko would give anything to rid her baby of his nightmares, she shamefully had to admit that she enjoyed sharing a bed with Takeru. It put her newly divorced ex-husband out of her mind, and filled the bed with a comforting warmth. And there was nothing she loved seeing more than his beautiful blue eyes first thing in the morning.

This particular Sunday morning was casting such bright, clear light on the bed that Takeru awoke earlier than usual. He squirmed a bit, pushing against her side with his tiny hands. A soft, hum-like noise escaped him, followed by fluttering lids and a huge yawn. The four year old rolled onto his back, his toes nearly touching the side of the bed.

Natsuko propped herself up on an elbow.

"Mornin' baby," She whispered.

Bright blue eyes tipped back, peering at her from nearly upside-down.

"Hi Mama."

* * *

Twenty-eight

"Obaa-chan! Obaa-chan look!" The young voice caught the older woman's attention immediately. She turned slowly on sore joints, holding a heavy looking camera.

"Oh my, Take-chan! What a big frog you've found. Hold him up so I can take a picture, and then we can put him back where you found him."

The little boy flashed the camera a toothy smile and held the frog up for his grandmother to see.

"Ready? Three…two...one…"

"AH! Obaa-chan, he peed on me!"

* * *

Twenty-nine

Natsuko could hardly believe that her baby was almost three years old. Sometimes she wished he were still a tiny, helpless thing so that she could carry him around always. Sometimes she just stepped back and marveled at how clever he was. And sometimes she sat around and wondered what he would be like as a grown man.

Today, as she watched him struggle to get dressed on his own, (both legs through one pants hole, and wrestling with the backwards shirt) she didn't wonder.

"Want some help, Yamato?"

"No! I do it!"

Stubborn. He would be very, very stubborn.

* * *

Thirty

Takeru didn't think he had even been this happy. He felt like he might just burst as he swung Hikari around the dancefloor. Their wedding had gone off without a hitch. His parents were getting along for the night. The food had been delicious and the decorations were stunning. He was surrounded by people he loved, and the one he loved the most (read: the _girl_ he loved the most) was dancing, and laughing, and more beautiful than he could have imagined.

He pulled Hikari in, mid spin, and dropped a kiss on her still giggling mouth. For now, everything was perfect.

* * *

 **If there is a significant increase in wedding related ficletts, its because I am getting married next September and maybe I am a little excited. Maybe more than a little.**


	7. 31-35

**Heyyyyyy everyone! Its me! I'm not dead! Sorry about the weird gap in updates, I've moved... AGAIN. And it was a biggie this time so I am a couple hundred miles from where I began. Hopefully I will be updating this fix more often now that I have had time to settle.**

 **HAPPY ODAIBA DAY! Happy one year anniversary of me getting back into writing! What a hell of a year it has been. Like holy shit.**

* * *

Thirty-one

Hiroaki peered around the apartment, feigning nonchalance. Natsuko wouldn't be home for close to another half an hour, so there really shouldn't be any way she could catch him again. Shouldn't being the key word there.

He strode over to the fridge and plucked one of the yellow fruits from the drawer. He gave a slight pause, listening for the jiggle of a door handle. Nothing. The man grabbed a knife and quickly cut a small wedge from the fruit. Smiling in anticipation, he hurried back to where his year old baby sat in his high chair. Takeru made grabby hands at the prize as soon as he noticed what his father held.

"Don't tell your mother I gave you another one, okay? She thinks its mean, but you like them don't you?" Hiroaki handed the slice to his son.

Takeru immediately snatched it, squealing in excitement, and took a big bite. Immediately his eyes snapped shut and his little baby mouth puckered, juice dribbling down his chin. Chubby hands waved in the air violently for a moment, before the boy swallowed. Takeru giggled hysterically, face relaxing before looking to his father and going in for another bite.

"I can't believe you like lemons, buddy."

* * *

Thirty-two

"MAMA!"

The scream from the bathroom sent Natsuko rocketing down the hallway and catching herself on the doorframe.

"What happened? What's the matter?" She looked frantically at Takeru, who was kneeling on the sink counter and staring in horror at his mouth.

The little boy poked his tongue out and wiggled a bottom tooth, then turned his gaze to his gasping mother.

"Its loose, Mama! The big boys at school said if my teeth fall out, I get pointy shark's teeth instead of people ones!"

Natsuko slid down onto the floor and sighed. This boy was going to be the death of her.

* * *

Thirty-three

"Here Mama! Look what I made! Look, look, look!" Takeru thrust a piece of paper in his exhausted mother's face. "Lookie! I made another one!"

Natsuko blinked rapidly and sat back, unable to focus her eyes on something so close. She cleared her throat and blearily looked at the mess of crayon scribbles her child had created.

"Its beautiful, darling. I love it."

Takeru danced around in a little circle, his bare feet pattering on the tile.

"Can I put it on the fridge, can I Mama?" He crowed.

"Um, of course, baby… why don't you do that yourself, seeing as you are such a big boy now?"

The three year old tore off into the kitchen. His arrival was punctuated by a despairing wail.

"Mama! There's no room!"

Natsuko dropped her head into her hands and laughed out a sigh.

"I know…"

* * *

Thirty-four

"We could never have taken care of it, let alone afford it! What did you expect me to do?" Natsuko blustered at her husband.

"I figured we could just take them to the park and let them play with the ones there. I didn't expect you to actually get them the opposite of what they wanted."

"You're overreacting, they can't possibly hate that I got them a pet. I tried, didn't I?" The bickering adults walked into their boys' bedroom, where their young sons stared in disbelief at the object on the nightstand.

"They asked for a puppy, Natsuko."

Yamato ripped his eyes away from the goldfish swimming around in the bowl to look at his parents in disgust.

"This is so not the same, Mom."

Takeru whimpered in agreement.

* * *

Thirty-five

Hiroaki Ishida came home from work not knowing exactly what to expect when he arrived. The last four nights he had come home to a listless teen watching TV in the dark. The dishes had been washed, dinner was wrapped up on the table, laundry was done… but Yamato was too quiet. Hiroaki really worried about that boy. He would have called Takeru and asked him to come cheer his brother up, but the younger blond was on a school trip and would not be home until the following night. He wished with all his heart that at the very least, the lights would be on when he stepped in the door.

For once in his life, it seemed, his prayers had been answered.

Boisterous arguing, along with the sounds of videogames and the accompanying scent of takeout accosted him as he opened the front door. He could see Taichi's hair over the back of the couch, shoving at his son as they played a racing game on the TV. Cans of soda littered the living room and two open pizza boxes sat haphazardly among them.

A redhead emerged from the bathroom, and started at the sight of him standing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Oh! Welcome home Mr. Ishida, I am so sorry about this mess! We'll make sure to clean everything in a minute."

Hiroaki chucked at her nervousness.

"No need, Sora! I don't mind," Hiroaki gave her a reassuring pat on her shoulder and grabbed a remaining slice of pizza. "Thank you, actually."

He leaned on the couch between his son and his friend, and grinned in relief.

"Who's winning?"


	8. 36-40

**Haha! I LIIIIIIVE! Would anyone believe me if I said I was moving again in three weeks? Yes, no? Well I am. Finally into my own place with my FINALLY HOME fiancé. Its been three years , but I will finally be where I want to be. I am taking some time off work to get a lot of stuff (wedding plans, art commissions, sleeping) done. And that means some writing too! I would like to have the next chapter of Stutter up in the next few weeks.**

 **To those of you who would actually be interested in seeing some fan doodles, I am on Tumblr under the same ToastyToaster22 name. I am sure I could handle some digi-doodles. Potentially requests...**

* * *

Thirty-six

Yamato hadn't really been old enough to appreciate his first snow. His father had him so bundled up it was possible the three month old was not even aware of the event occurring outside the many layers of cloth. The next year, however, at fourteen months old…

"Hey buddy, what do you think?" Hiroaki hoisted his son a little higher on his hip. A smile tugged at his lips as Yamato's clear blue eyes took in the dancing flakes, little mouth open in awe. The man didn't often admit when things struck him as beautiful, but no one had to know.

What was _not_ beautiful was two years later an eight-month-old Takeru nearly throwing himself out of Hiroaki's arms, shrieking like a child possessed and gleefully grabbing at the bigger flakes as they fell past. Natsuko whipped around at the cry to see a somewhat terrified smile on her husband's face.

"I didn't drop him."

* * *

Thirty-seven

Natsuko did not take Yamato to the beach the summer she was pregnant with Takeru. She was achy, bloated, and cranky in the heat. He only whined a few times before she had the bright idea to let him bring his beach toys in the bath and run some cool water. She might have even put her feet in with him.

The next summer Takeru was close to a year old when the whole family made the trip to the shore. The tired parents expected a full day of chasing the boys around. They were pleasantly surprised when the normally hyperactive Takeru spent most of the afternoon waddling around and pointing at everything, shooting his big brother confused looks. Yamato was more than happy to oblige him.

"That's sand."

"That's a rock."

"That's the ocean."

"That's a kid."

"That's still sand."

"That's a shell… That's a shell too. Don't look all mad at me, I'm not lying, promise."

* * *

Thirty-eight

Hiroaki hung his damp jacket up on the coatrack and hurried into the kitchen. He was only a _little_ late for dinner today and was not surprised at all to see the rest of the family had started eating without him.

He shot his wife an apologetic glance before sliding into his seat.

"Hi Daddy!" his older son bounced on his knees and waved energetically. Hiroaki faked a double take and plastered a huge smile on his face.

""Is that you, Yamato? My goodness I thought that must have been someone else! That's one handsome haircut you got there, champ."

Yamato glowed at the praise, but his smile slipped as he peeked across the table. Poking at his food, he sniffed lightly.

"Yeah but Teeks doesn't like it…"

Natsuko startled them by snorting.

"That's not it, honey."

The little boy in question ripped his teary gaze from his brother to stare imploringly at his father. He nearly knocked his plate off his high chair in his hurry to point at Yamato.

"Me too! Me too, Daddy!"

"He's jealous."

* * *

Thirty-nine

Natsuko was taken aback when Yamato's kindergarten teacher asked to speak with her privately when she came to pick the boy up at the end of the day. The mother was even further shocked to hear that her shy, polite little Yamato had gotten in a… well, apparently "fight" was a bit too strong of a word. He had gotten in quite the disagreement with another boy in his class and they had started pushing at each other when the teacher intervened.

Natsuko listened raptly, but her eyes were glued to her child sitting glumly on the reading carpet. He flipped morosely through a book and was making a good effort to make it look like he wasn't listening in.

She turned back to the older woman, suddenly incredibly curious.

"Did the boys tell you what they were fighting about?"

The teacher chewed the inside of her cheek, as if unsure how Natsuko would respond.

"They both claimed to be the best big brother in the world…"

* * *

Forty

"Come on, baby! You can do it! Come to Mama! That's it!"

"Come on, kiddo! Come to Daddy!"

Takeru shook slightly as he held on to the couch and looked back and forth between his cheering parents.

"Come on, Takeru! Come see Mama!"

Yamato appeared in the doorway, rubbing morning sleepies from his eyes with the sleeve of his pajamas.

"Mama, Daddy, what are you doing?" He cocked his head at them in confusion.

Natsuko held out her arms towards her younger son.

"Trying to get Takeru to walk. Look at him, he's so ready. He just won't let go of the couch," His mother grouched lightly. Her knees were starting to ache.

Yamato's face screwed up, more confused than before.

"But he walked like, a week ago," The four year old clapped to get his brother's attention and held his arms wide.

Takeru perked up immediately, and made a bee-line for Yamato, barely wobbling. The little boy struggled but succeeded in picking the baby up and bouncing around a bit.

"Good job, Teeks!"

Takeru squealed in delight, hugging his chubby arms around Yamato's neck.

Natsuko dropped her arms in horrified disappointment. Hiroaki sat back on his heels, a smug look stealing over his face.

"Nat, you owe me 500 yen."


	9. 41-45

**So, as an apology for being so mean to Natsuko in her chapter of Never Hopeless, I gave her some happy snippets here.**

* * *

Forty-one

Natsuko looked around the dining room table, on the chairs, glanced under the table… Gosh darn it, she didn't really want to have to get up. This paperwork was taking forever as it was. A clever thought popped in her head.

"Yamato, honey?" She called, not entirely sure where her eldest was at the moment. "Can you bring mommy her purse?"

There was a brief silence, then a loud whisper came from somewhere in the apartment.

"I can't! I'm stuck!"

Oh dear. Usually, stuck meant stuck in the bathroom. Ah, well, she was going to have to get up anyway now.

Natsuko was confused when she peeked inside. The bathroom was empty.

"I'm in here!" Another whisper directed her to the boy's shared bedroom.

"Honey, you aren't bothering Takeru while he's nap- Oh."

Four-year-old Yamato was laying on his back in Takeru's crib, knees pulled up so that he could fit. Six-month-old Takeru was asleep on his chest.

"I just wanted to say hi, but then he wanted a hug and now I'm stuck," The little boy explained in a hushed voice, his blue eyes wide.

Natsuko put a hand over her mouth. What was she going to do with these boys?

* * *

Forty-two

Rolling over, Natsuko counted the seconds in between the flickering lights illuminating the bedroom, and the rumbles that came after. The storm was getting closer.

A particularly loud crash from outside was followed by the hurried padding of little feet. The mother opened her eyes to catch her five year old jumping onto the bed and burrowing under the blankets completely. Takeru squirmed around until he reached her side. The little boy crawled half on top of his mother, resting his head over her heart.

Natsuko picked up the edge of the covers, peering at her son's frightened face.

"I've been expecting you," She smiled at him.

Takeru just batted her hand away, pulling the blanket down and squeezing her tighter.

* * *

Forty-three

Natsuko hummed, playing with the phone cord.

"That's kind of expensive, Hiroaki. I already had something in mind to get him, and I certainly can't afford both…" She sighed, Hiroaki hadn't asked her to go halfsies on one of the boy's birthday presents since long before the divorce.

"He's turning thirteen. I thought we'd treat him a bit. You only become a teenager once, you know."

Natsuko bit her lip, thinking of the pile of bills she needed to pay.

"I hope I don't regret this, but okay, I'll do it."

She didn't regret it, especially when her ex-husband emailed her a picture a month later. Yamato stood frozen, face blazing with one of the brightest smiles she had ever seen on him. Clutched to his chest was his brand new guitar.

That one was getting framed.

* * *

Forty-four

What on earth were the lights doing on? It was close to midnight. Natsuko felt irritation spark in her chest. It was a school night, and she had come home to the apartment lit up and the TV still on. That wasn't like Takeru, but she supposed a little teenage rebellion was to be expected.

Prepping herself for a lecture, she walked over to the couch, hands on her hips.

Her hands dropped at the sight that greeted her.

Takeru lay on his stomach across the cushions, arm dangling down to the carpet. Patamon was curled on the small of his back, as dead to the world as his partner. Homework papers littered the coffee table, along with the remains of whatever Takeru had made himself for dinner.

The boy was much too big to be carried to bed, so the mother settled for draping a blanket over her son. She did her best not to smother Patamon with it. Switching off the TV and turning the lights off, she tiptoed to bed herself.

* * *

Forty-five

Natusko couldn't comprehend what she was looking at. I mean, logically, she knew exactly what it was. She shouldn't even be surprised, and yet…

She looked up from the photo to where her son and his wife were sitting, anxious smiles plastered on their faces.

"I… It- this… You- You can't have a baby! You're _my_ baby!" Was what sputtered out of her mouth at last.

Takeru laughed at her statement.

"Mom, I'm twenty-seven," He reached out and tapped the ultrasound photo. "Time to let someone else be the baby, okay?"

* * *

 **I found out a little while ago that I am going to be an Auntie in July. I've been making blankets and burp cloths and lets just say I can usually keep my baby-craze enthusiasm around a six... Lately its cranked up to a nine. Someone help me.**


	10. 46-50

**Heyyyy guys... I can't believe I have only updated this story twice since last Odaiba Day. Two updates in a year. I would feel a lot worse if I hadn't written like, 25 chapters of other fics in that time. Anywho, I have been busy. I am officially an auntie to a seven pound bundle of cute. I get married in less than two months. I have an art show coming up.**

 **Woof.**

* * *

Forty-six

Natsuko watched her little boy clumsily yank at the wrapping paper on the present in his lap. She couldn't believe her youngest was already turning four. It felt like she had blinked and he'd gone from a babbling infant to an exuberant child getting ready for preschool.

In fact, he was growing _too_ _fast_.

Takeru was growing out of all Yamato's hand me downs, whining at the too-short sleeves and pulling at the snug collars. Natsuko had hoped that he could endure a little longer, it had been winter when Yamato was this size, so all of the next size up summer clothes completely swamped her younger son.

It couldn't be helped. Natsuko had to go on a shopping spree. Most little boys would not be excited about getting clothes for their birthday, Natsuko had been paying attention the other day when Takeru stopped suddenly on the sidewalk, wide eyes staring in awe at something displayed in a shop window.

"Mama! The ducky coat! The ducky coat!" The elated boy on the floor cried, yanking a shiny yellow rain jacket out of the box and waving it around.

Natsuko laughed and helped him when he struggled to put the jacket on. She chuckled harder when Takeru discovered the matching yellow boots and gave a shriek of utter joy.

"I wanna go outside, Mama! Everybody has to see me."

She felt a little bad having to deny his request. They were in the middle of a blistering heat wave and it had not rained in weeks. The boy would overheat in no time.

Heartbroken blue eyes pleaded at her from under the orange duck billed visor.

"Maybe just a minute."

* * *

Forty-seven

Sometimes Hiroaki wondered why life had to be difficult. He had the day off work, Natsuko had volunteered to do the long list of errands that had been piling up, and the boys had been on their best behavior all the way to the park.

Perfect.

Until the partly cloudy sky had gone dark in a matter of moments and a veritable waterfall had dropped from the heavens. Accompanied, of course, by some of the most violent thunder and lightning the man had seen since the kids were born.

So there he stood, huddled under the only pavilion in the park with a handful of other soaked parents, their equally dripping children, and two cowering dogs. Yamato clung to his side, small arms squeezing tighter and tighter at each deafening crash. The man hefted Takeru a little higher in his arms so he could reach down and press a hand into his five-year-old's hair. Though he probably could have let go of Takeru entirely and he would not have slipped a centimeter. The toddler was nearly strangling him as it was.

The sky tried to rip itself in two, his boys pressed themselves even closer, and maybe, Hiroaki thought, maybe this was perfect after all.

* * *

Forty-eight

"Oh dear…" Natsuko muttered in dismay, tightening her grip on Takeru's tiny hand.

They'd been inside the store for only a couple minutes, and somehow in that time the light drizzle had changed to a heavy downpour.

Her six-year-old turned his face up to her.

"Mama, I think we're gunna have to run."

Her irritation faded, and a flicker of mischief replaced it.

"You know, I think you're right," Natsuko shifted her bag to her shoulder and pulled out her car keys.

"Ready…"

Takeru bent low at her side, giggling, his feet prepped for a sprint.

"Set…"

She looked both ways across the parking lot, making sure they were clear.

"Go!"

They took off into the rain, water splashing up their legs and thundering down on them from above. Takeru leapt and landed flat footed into a massive puddle in their path, whooping at the wave it caused. By the time they reached the car they were thoroughly drenched, and Natsuko scrambled into the back seat with her son. Her chest heaved with exertion and mirth as she helped Takeru buckle into his booster seat, their hair dripping into their eyes.

"That was _so_ fun," Takeru laughed, eyes sparkling.

Natsuko hummed in agreement. It had been a long time since she was this happy.

* * *

Forty-nine

Awareness came to Takeru slowly. His head felt heavy, his eyelids not responding to his brain's insistence that it was probably much later than he was in the habit of getting out of bed.

He huffed out a long breath and managed to peek out into the bedroom. It felt late… but the room was still so dark. He thought he could hear the faint sounds of water splashing. That was weird, if Hikari was up and in the shower already, why hadn't she woken him for breakfast? She never did anything until she'd eaten and he had never been able to sleep through the smell of food in their apartment.

Takeru forced his body to roll over, intending to get up and investigate. He stopped, however, at the sight of his girlfriend laying beside him, still snuggled beneath their comforter.

It took his muddled brain an embarrassingly long time to come to the conclusion that it was just a dark, rainy morning.

Well.

It _was_ Sunday, Takeru supposed, as he laid back down. It wasn't like they had any plans.

He pressed his forehead against Hikari's shoulder and relaxed, listening to the sounds of her soft breathing and the rain pattering on the windowpane.

Sleep took him once again.

* * *

Fifty

When Takeru pointed at the door and demanded, "Leafs, Mama! Leafs! Leafs!" Natsuko cringed.

Her son had recently discovered that the dry, colorful leaves carpeting the sidewalks lately gave a very satisfying crunch when stomped on. He was instantly obsessed.

"Baby, its raining," She cajoled. "No crunchy leaves today."

"Leafs!" He smacked his hands on the door insistently.

The woman buried her face in her hands. Looked like she was going to have to do this the hard way.

Takeru wiggled and whined the whole time she wrestled him into Yamato's old blue raincoat and boots. He tried to yank the boots off in the hallway, succeeded while in the elevator, and howled like a banshee when his mother stuffed his feet back in them in the lobby.

"See, Takeru? No crunchy leaves today. Its wet. Its raining," She gestured to the limp leaves plastered to the pavement.

Takeru eagerly stepped on them, face changing from glee to annoyance when they just let out a damp splort. He crouched, hands patting and poking the dead plants, utterly perplexed. He stood back up, giving them an unsteady kick.

His eyes flew wide when a damp leaf flipped up and stuck to the side of his boot.

"Sticky? Sticky! Sticky!" The two-year-old greedily started grabbing handfuls of the leaves and sticking them to his raingear.

Looked like they were going to be out here a while.


	11. 51-55

**Hey everybody. Hope you all are having a better time than me! I've had some crappy things happen this past week and thank goodness I am focusing my frustration into writing fanfiction instead of like, screaming till next year. Anywho, here are some rather Yamato centric snippets. He's so easy to write when I am grouchy.**

* * *

Fifty-one

Hiroaki pursed his lips as the phone rang in his ear another time. Hoping it wouldn't go to voicemail, he let out a low breath and tilted his head back against the couch cushions.

"Hiroaki?"

"Natsuko? Oh, good, I'm glad I caught you before you left the house. I was wondering if I could keep Takeru another night?"

He heard what could have been an irritated huff on the line.

"Is he crying again? You know you can't give in every time he gets sad, Hiroaki, he needs to learn the new schedule-"

"No, no, that's not it."

The father looked down at his lap and smiled. A fluffy blond head lay pillowed on each of his legs. Hiroaki watched as Yamato shifted, looking relaxed and content even as he slept on.

Takeru burrowed his face into his father's jeans and let out a muffled snort.

"That's not it at all."

* * *

Fifty-two

"Bam! Kapowie!" High pitched laughter rang through the apartment along with the sound Hiroaki recognized as toy cars being thrown to the floor.

He winced at a particularly loud crash, getting up from his paperwork to intervene before a certain someone castrated him.

"Yamato? Hey, buddy. You're doing a great job playing by yourself, just like I asked, but remember I said Mama and Takeru were napping? We need to be super quiet so we don't wake them up, right?"

The four-year-old let out a soft, "oh," large blue eyes staring innocently up at his father.

"I forgot."

Hiroaki chuckled, reaching down and hefting the boy up onto his hip.

"I figured. How about you and me do something quiet together? Want to make Mama something to eat for when she gets up? I bet she'll be hungry."

He gently plopped Yamato down on the kitchen counter and started pulling out some kid-friendly snacks from the cabinet.

His son's eyes went wider than before, a hushed whisper sneaking past his lips.

"I wanna cook with Daddy!"

* * *

Fifty-three

Yamato was irritated enough that he almost resented Takeru for sitting so close to him on the couch. He spitefully refused to break the silence, despite the fact that he could feel his little brother's eyes burning holes in the side of his head.

"Dad said you want to quit your band."

Yamato wanted to hate his father for sicking Takeru on him. He wasn't sure he could, but he wanted to.

"Maybe," He grunted. "You here to tell me all the reasons why I'm stupid too?"

The couch cushions moved as Takeru leaned lightly into him.

"No."

The frustrated teen bit back a curse.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

Yamato turned his head away and blinked back tears.

* * *

Fifty-four

Blankets were flung halfway off the bed when Takeru jolted into the waking world. The nightmare was already fading, but it had been violent and jarring. He was breathing so fast. Every blurry shadow in his dark bedroom felt like a threat.

He curled up tight, hugging his pillow and not taking his eyes off a strangely shaped dark blob in the corner.

"Patamon?"

"Hmm? What's wrong?"

Takeru whined in response.

"Takeru?"

Patamon's little paws pressed into his back and side as the creature crawled over him. The weight did wonders in grounding the unsettled boy. Takeru loosened his grip on the pillow enough for his partner to burrow into the tight space against his chest.

"Bad dream?"

Takeru pushed his cheek into his partner's soft fur and let his eyelids fall again.

Everything was fine.

* * *

Fifty-five

"What are you writing?"

Takeru yelped and slammed his laptop closed, whipping around in his chair in alarm. He hadn't heard his brother come in the room _at_ _all_.

"Um, its nothing! Just a school paper," He floundered.

Yamato smirked at his little brother's panic.

"Yeah, that's crap. What is it for real?"

Takeru turned back to his desk, shoulders inching toward his ears. Yamato waited patiently while his little brother stalled and fidgeted.

"Its… it's a story. About us… And being in the Digital World." He murmured haltingly.

"Do you explain things better than Koushiro?"

Takeru blinked, relaxing. That had not been the question he expected.

"I guess?" He peeked back up at Yamato.

"I want to read it first."


	12. 56-60

**Hello everyone! We will be taking a break from our regularly scheduled fluff for some spooky mischief! I hope you all enjoy your Halloween!**

 **The next chapter of Never Hopeless is on its way. I plan to have it edited and posted in the next four or five days. Its probably the second longest chapter.**

* * *

Fifty-six

Takeru went flying down the dark hallway, heart pounding in his little chest.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddyyyyy!" His shrill voice pierced the quiet that had reigned over the apartment for hours.

The three-year-old burst into his parents' room and scrambled up onto the bed before his father could gain his senses.

"Wha- what's a matter, buddy?" The exhausted man pushed himself to a sitting position with one arm and curled his other around the trembling body in his lap.

"I can't find Onii-chan!" Takeru wailed into his chest.

Hiroaki sighed. He knew this was going to happen.

"Yamato is sleeping over at a friend's house tonight, remember? We are going to pick him up in the morning."

The boy only shook his head.

"Well, he is. Ugh, come on, kiddo. Everything is fine, lets go back to bed." He looked enviously down at his wife who lay peacefully sleeping beside him, earplugs in and oblivious to the world. She hadn't been feeling well lately and was determined to get her eight hours of sleep, children or no children.

Takeru tightened his grip.

"Can't."

"What? Why can't you go back to bed?"

The preschooler was biting his lip and looking around for an excuse.

"Um. Ghosts."

"Takeru, there are no such things as ghosts. There isn't one in your room. Let's go to sleep."

"No. There's a monster." He changed his story quickly when Hiroaki pulled the blankets back.

"No such things as monsters either."

"There's a bad guy, Daddy! I wanna sleep with you!" He unleashed his best weapon, his puppy dog eyes. They were big and blue and watery, with an adorable, desperate pout to match.

"Oh my god, fine. But don't wake your mother."

* * *

Fifty-seven

Before the whole "Digital World" fiasco, as Natsuko liked to call it, the whole family had the same opinion of scary movies. They were a no-go. Takeru only watched happy movies. Yamato didn't mind a more serious film here and there, but no horror. Period. Natsuko was honestly glad, she hated the things herself.

Directly afterwards, she didn't give the subject much thought. With the way Takeru screamed and cried with nightmares for months, she figured he scared more easily than ever. She went out of her way to mitigate the amount of potential frights her poor son went through.

And then one night the two of them were curled up on the couch with popcorn, enjoying a children's movie on TV when a commercial for a new horror film popped up on the screen. At first she was irritated. This was a children's channel, playing a children's movie, and some numbskull thought it was a good idea to throw in nightmare fuel? Hiroaki and all of Fuji TV were going on her shit-list. And then she looked over at Takeru as if suddenly remembering that her son was seeing the same disturbing thing she was.

Takeru, only three weeks from turning nine, was watching the screaming terror with boredom written all over his young face. He grabbed another handful of popcorn and munched on, unphased.

"That's so fake. Real monsters just try to kill everybody, why bother leaving a witness?"

Natsuko was the one with nightmares that night.

* * *

Fifty-eight

"I'm going to the bathroom, Nii-san. Don't bother pausing it, I remember this scene," Takeru called over his shoulder, leaving his father's living room and heading down the hall.

His brother grumbled at him, hunched in on himself and pushing back into the arm of the couch.

"Why are we watching this again?"

Takeru paused at the bathroom door, leaning back towards Yamato's voice.

"Because its artsy! And I'm going to do my literature free-write off it, so I need to remind myself of what happens!"

He ignored the older teen's muttered, "I don't see why I have to watch it too…" and closed the bathroom door while still in the hall. Takeru slunk down against the wall and crept on quiet, socked feet back towards the living room. Suspenseful, eerie music began, filling the air with an unsettling ambiance. The thirteen-year-old held his breath as he couched down further and positioned himself behind the couch.

Takeru waited.

Right as a jump scare happened on screen, he leapt to his feet and grabbed his brother's shoulders, screaming right behind his head.

Yamato let out a shriek of terror and threw himself onto the floor in a tangle of long limbs.

Takeru cackled, frantically running out of the room before his brother could murder him.

"Takeru, you are the _worst!_ "

* * *

Fifty-nine

Natsuko Takaishi listened in interest as her college aged baby rambled endlessly on the other end of the line. She was thrilled that he liked college so much, though the house felt awfully empty with him gone so often…

"-and then guess what? I entered, and I didn't even think it was my best work, but you'll never guess. I mean, actually I wouldn't be calling you so excited if I lost, but guess what? I won!"

"That's fantastic, honey! What category did you win?" Natsuko crossed her fingers.

"It was one of the creative writing sections, only 600-1,000 words. I won for Best Horror Short! Can I read it to you? Its like a page and a half."

The mother fidgeted with the zipper on her sweater.

"Um, oh sweetheart… you know that scary stuff isn't really my thing. Why don't you call your father? I'm sure he'd want to hear it. Not that I don't, I do, I just…"

She heard her son laugh out a sigh.

"Yeah, no, Dad said he was 'too busy' and hung up, you know? And Aniki told me congrats, and to keep that shit away from him. Even Hikari said she doesn't even want to see it hanging around the apartment. Although I think that's a bit extreme, its not like its going to jump up and start reading itself all on its own-"

"Why don't you ask Miyako to listen to it? That girl used to be the only one who'd watch scary movies with you, wasn't she?"

There was a pause.

"That's a great idea, Mom! I'll call her! I know she doesn't have classes this afternoon, so she has no excuse. Thanks, love you! Bye!"

Natsuko hung up and wiped her forehead in relief. Another bullet dodged.

* * *

Sixty

Hikari Takaishi nearly dropped her groceries when she stepped into her apartment. The moment she set foot in the threshold a small body slammed into her legs and send her bumping back into the doorframe.

"Mama! Daddy and Hiro are doing it _again!_ " The little girl whined, bouncing around her mother impatiently as Hikari walked into the kitchen and put her bags on the counter.

"Again, Sumie?" Hikari picked up her daughter and set her on her hip. "What do you think we should do about that?"

The girl's face twisted in righteous, four-year-old fury.

"Go tell Daddy to stoppit."

Hikari tried not to giggle at the seriousness in her squeaky voice.

They walked into the living room, where Takeru and their now six-year-old son sat, watching The Nightmare Before Christmas. A mop of brown hair popped over the back of the couch, glaring at the girls.

"Daddy, Sumie told on us."

"Takeru," Hikari chastised her husband. "You know that movie gives both of us the creeps. I thought you weren't going to watch it when we were home anymore?"

"Awww, honey," Takeru stood up and pulled their son up with him. The two boys sent the best sad faces they could at the mother, big eyes and wobbly bottom lips. "But its Hiro's birthday… Its his favorite. How can I say no?"

Hikari pursed her lips.

"Plus," Takeru added. "You let Sumie watch Ponyo four times on _her_ birthday. _Four_ , Hikari. Hiro and I were losing our minds."


	13. 61-65

**This is like, an apology for the sad new Stutter chapter.**

* * *

Sixty-one

Takeru was shivering. His hands were damp from the snow melting through his thin mittens. His nose was running. His toes were angry that he wasn't wearing any socks inside his snow boots. Despite this, the little boy kept scraping every bit of snow from the balcony.

The door behind him slid open with an angry snap.

"Takeru, what on earth are you doing out here? You need to be getting ready for school," His mother admonished.

Takeru shuffled over and held out his hands at the lump of snow he had molded from the meager inch and a half that had fallen overnight.

"Look, Mom! I made Patamon!"

* * *

Sixty-two

Natsuko withheld a moan. Her head had been aching since she woke up and forcing herself to work through it had only raised the ache to a steady throb. A clank from the kitchen sent a skewer of pain through her temple.

Soft footsteps circled around to where she lay on the couch, and then one of the cushions dipped.

"Here you go Mom," Her son whispered.

The smell of tea wafted over her and she felt the muscles in her neck relax. Takeru picked up the cold cloth that sat on her forehead and turned it over, dropping a tiny kiss to her hair before replacing it.

"Thanks, baby."

* * *

Sixty-three

"Oh, come one, come on… focus!" Hiroaki huffed out when he heard the front door open. "Darn camera's a piece of junk- No, Takeru! Don't touch it yet!"

Water soaked into the knees of his jeans from the bathroom floor, but he ignored it.

"Hiroaki?" Natsuko was coming down the hall. "Are the kids still up? I thought you promised they would be in bed by the time I got home?"

"We're working on it!" He called out the cracked door, waving for the boys to stop giggling. Hiroaki couldn't tell if they were in trouble or not and it was better to be safe than sorry.

The door was pushed open a moment later, and the disappointed expression on his wife's face melted at the sight awaiting her. Takeru and Yamato sat in a sea of bubble bath, suds piled high on top of their heads and fluffy white beards dripping off their chins.

"We uh, got distracted."

* * *

Sixty-four

Takeru wasn't sure what woke him, but for once it wasn't a nightmare. He rolled over and stretched, a warm breeze rolling in from the open window and brushing where his night shirt rode up. The boy let out a contented sigh, a quick peek at the alarm clock confirming that he had hours before he needed to be up.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, he fluffed his pillow and let his head flop back down onto it.

"Mmm… Takeru?" Patamon murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, bud," The boy breathed, pulling his partner closer. "Everything's fine."

* * *

Sixty-five

Hiroaki's head snapped up when Natsuko walked into the bedroom.

"I thought you said Takeru needed to be supervised when he was painting? You're always on my case if I leave the room, and yet look at you!"

His wife's face puckered.

"I'm not leaving him to take a nap, Hiroaki, I'm just grabbing a pair of socks. He's a good boy, he isn't going to paint the walls or anything in the two seconds I'm gone."

The man slid off their bed and followed her back to the dining area where their youngest sat at the table with his paints.

"See? He's fi- Oh my god, Takeru, why?"

"You're right, Nat," Hiroaki laughed, patting her on the shoulder. "Not a drop on the walls. Not. A. Drop."

Takeru turned in his chair and giggled at them, his entire face bright blue.

* * *

 **I had to cheer myself up somehow**


End file.
